Land Ho - After 5 Weeks at Sea

09/16/02

The View Approaching Cape Town

    Last night as I started my watch, we had 10 knots of wind, and we had George steering, as the amount of wind was not enough to steer with the wind vane, with the motion of the seas.  We were still over 30 degrees off course.  Well before I ended my watch (2000-2200), the wind had climbed to 25+ and I had to wake everyone up to put two reefs in the main.  Later on the wind died again, and David and I tacked to port tack.  Right before my watch started (0200-0400) Eric woke us up again and we shook the reefs out of the main, as the wind had gone down.  The jib sheets had fouled, and Eric had to climb the ratlines to untangle them.  Once this was done, we were still a bit off course, as I started my watch.  I went to use the head, and when I came out, miraculously the wind had backed, and we were sailing the rhumb line!  By the end of my watch, the wind had backed enough to go on a reach.  As of this morning, we are cruising along at 6.5 knots on the rhumb line with 50 miles to go to Cape Town.  Hopefully we will land before dark. 
   
    This is day number 35 of our passage.  My excitement at the approaching landfall is without bound.

    Later this morning, on David’s watch, the wind began to veer again, sending us northward of the rhumb line.  Right away Eric’s ire was directed towards me, as he stated that I was given explicit instructions to increase the cross track error to the right between 2 and 3 miles.  I guess I misunderstood the orders, and though I worked to keep the course to the right of the rhumb line as best I could, apparently I didn’t try hard enough, and now it’s my fault if we aren’t able to make it to Cape Town today.  Well, another day, another fuck-up on my part.

    At this point we are motoring to try to make the correct course.  We have less than 30 miles to go.  I want to get there as soon as possible, before I fuck something else up.

Seals Hanging Out as We Approach Land

    At 26 miles distance from Cape Town, we began to see the outline of Table Mountain ahead.  We have spotted a few seals in the water, just their shiny black bodies and flippers visible above the water.  We have been seeing a lot more albatrosses, but since we are nearing land they are getting scarcer.

    I phoned Sue on the Iridium today, and her mother answered.  She told me that Sue is in Cape Town already, waiting for me.  That is very exciting news, something that I hoped would happen.  I hope she can stand to get close to me, after not having showered for more than five weeks.  It will be nice to have someone to interact with besides Eric and David.

At The Royal Cape Yacht Club, Looking for the Showers

Reunited, and Ready for First Meal in Five Weeks that Didn't Come From a Can

A Taste of Hell

09/15/02

    After happy hour yesterday we put the third reef in the main, as the wind was approaching 30 knots.  This was to be the start of another hellish night, probably the worst of the trip so far.  We were heeled extremely, even after the reef, and eating dinner was a particularly arduous task.  Later in the evening the wind climbed to 40-45 knots, and one of Victor’s steering lines failed.  It was too rough to do any work with Victor, so we decided to heave to until the worst of the storm blew over.  During this whole time we had all the hatch boards in place, as spray was flying around all over outside.  The boat was rolling and crashing violently.  By the time 0100 rolled around, the wind had thankfully subsided somewhat (20-25 knots) and David and Eric were able to fix Victor.  At the same time the wind direction changed, and they decided to tack and sail on a reach.  This put us on starboard tack, which was good for sleeping (for me, at least).

    As of this morning, Eric and I shook all the reefs out of the main, as the wind has gone down.  We now are flying all available canvas, but not making very good progress, as we are now close-hauled doing 055 on the GPS, 40 degrees off the rhumb line (099).  While we had originally hoped to make it to Cape Town late tonight, at this rate we will be lucky to make it tomorrow night.  We have exceeded 4000 miles on the log for this leg, and this is the 33rd day of the passage.  This is also the longest passage that Eric has ever had on FIONA.  If I die and go to hell, this is what it will be, a never ending passage in this godforsaken boat on these gale-ridden seas.

    I forgot to mention that we have the Benguela current running against us also, which takes away a knot and a half from whatever meager headway we are making, and also pushes us further north, away from our destination.

More Halyard Drama

09/14/02

    The wind moderated and veered yesterday afternoon, and we were actually able to lay a course on the rhumb line.  Last night was a pleasant night, and we shook the reefs out of the main.  When I woke up this morning, however, the wind had freshened back up to 20, and we decided to put two reefs back in.  When furling the jib, the furling line had gotten stuck, and closer inspection showed that the halyard had worked loose and the top of the jib fitting had fallen below the wrap stop, a  fitting at the top of the extrusion (headstay) that prevents the halyard from twisting around the headstay when the jib is furled.  As a result the halyard was twisted.  We tried to untwist it the best we could but we ended up having to send David up the mast to clear it up.  This was a bit more tense than the first time he had gone up, as it had been calm conditions then.  This time it was blowing 20-25 knots and the boat was really rocking.  It went smoothly, and we were able to get the jib back in shape without too much trouble.  When Eric was putting the main halyard back on the sail, he lost his footing and fell, luckily against the ratlines, but in the process let go of the halyard, which was flailing all over the place.  The substantial shackle on the end of the halyard was a projectile, which if we weren’t able to catch it with our hands, threatened to really hurt one of us.  Since David still had the bicycle helmet on from his mast trip, he climbed the ratlines and snared it.  This whole situation was caused by my not tightening the brake on the winch enough when I had raised the jib the first time.  I was once again taken to task for my lack of seamanship.

    As of now we are doing 6 knots with a double-reefed main and staysail only.  We are looking at arriving at Cape Town tomorrow evening.  I will be kissing the ground on our arrival.

The Misery Worsens

09/13/02 – Friday the 13th

    Last night was very likely the most miserable night of the passage (so far).  We decided not to tack, as the other course provided no advantage over the current one, though both courses were terrible.  At the end of Eric’s watch (start of my 2000 watch), the wind shot up above 30 knots, and we decided to take the 3rd reef in the main.  Through the night the wind varied from 25-35 knots, sometimes going up to 40.  The seas were exceedingly rough, and the boat was tossed all over the place, all the while heeling between 20 and 40 degrees.  I have never experienced so much difficulty moving about in the boat.  The biggest challenge was using the head, getting slammed into the wall with my pants around my knees.  Care had to be taken to pump the head as soon as possible, lest the contents spill out from the extreme heel and bouncing of the boat.  We tacked a couple of times during the night, and finally settled on port tack, which is where we are this morning.  The most frustrating thing is, with all this suffering, we are making very little headway towards Cape Town.  The wind is coming right at us from the direction of Cape Town, sometimes at gale force.  I am losing my mind, but there is nothing I can do but hang on.

A Magnificently Horrible Night

09/12/02

    It has been yet another magnificently horrible night.  First, at 1700 yesterday (the end of my watch) we decided there was enough wind (barely) to stop the engine and raise the sails.  That we did, and were cruising gently along on starboard tack, close-hauled, but still 30 degrees off course.  This continued through my 2200 watch, and it looked like I was going to have a good sleep.  Then, at 0330, I woke to a dramatically heeling, crashing world.  Eric called David and I to get up and reef the main, as the wind was blowing 25-30 knots.  This we did, without incident, but when we were done, we found we were sailing at 055 rather than the 085 we had been sailing.  We were contemplating tacking, but then the wind came back around.  I started my 0400 watch (it was 0430 by the time the reefing was done) with instructions to holler if the course goes back down below 060 for any length of time.  The first 45 minutes were uneventful, and I listened to the BBC coverage of the 9/11 observance ceremonies.  At 0515 I looked at the GPS and saw that our course had dropped down to 055 again.  I decided to watch for half an hour before alerting anybody, in case it was temporary.  After 20 minutes I heard the jib luffing, and when I shined the flashlight out I saw that one of Victor’s steering lines was hanging loose.  I immediately woke up Eric and went to the cockpit and began hand steering.  Shortly after, Eric and David were also in the cockpit and we were assessing the situation.  First, we decided to reef the jib, then we decided to tack to get a better course (the wind speed had also come up a little).  With the abbreviated jib we weren’t able to get enough speed to tack, so we had to turn on the engine and power through the tack.  The course we had on port tack was really bad for some reason and we decided to go back to starboard tack.  Once this was done, Eric gave the helm to me to steer while he and David worked on fixing the steering line.  It took at least half an hour to fix the line, and I was getting cold, having not bothered to wear my gloves.  I was also standing on the side of the cockpit, as we continued to heel dramatically even with double-reefed main and staysail only.  We were done at 0730, and I went to sleep, leaving David and Eric.  When I woke up at 1000, we were on port tack again, crashing and banging on the heavy seas, and my sleeping bag was covered with drips.  As of now (1130) we are still crashing and banging, and I am barely holding onto the galley table to write this.  The winds are blowing 20-25 knots.  We are certainly earning this passage to Cape Town.  The best we can sail is 185 degrees, but the rhumb line is 118.  We will be tacking again at the end of the day if the wind doesn’t come around. 

    These conditions will certainly effect our ETA for Cape Town.  I don’t think I have ever wanted to get somewhere as badly as I want to get to Cape Town right now.

More Repairs in Calm Seas

09/11/02

    We are still motoring today, as there is still no wind.  Eric patched up the broken slide-batten connections this morning, so in the event the wind does come up we can fly the full main.  We are getting to a point where fuel usage is a problem.  We also were able to replace the man overboard pole flag in the sleeve.  The sleeve comes loose sometimes when the wind comes up, and during this last gale, the sleeve was pushed all the way to the top of the backstay and was hung up on the insulator for a couple of days.  We were afraid we would need to go up the mast to get it down. 

    Today is of course the first anniversary of the World Trade Center attack, and I am remembering the horrible events of that day, as we sit “safely” in the South Atlantic, far from any terrorist target.  I will be listening attentively to BBC world service tonight to see if anything else happens today.

Motoring in Search of Wind Again

09/10/02

    Not much new since yesterday.  We are still motoring in search of wind.  Eric found a torn spot on the staysail this morning, which I helped him fix with a patch.  The sun has been coming in and out, but overall it is quite comfortable on deck during the day.  We have only had one or two days when I really felt cold.

I'm a Loser, Baby

09/09/02

    The wind and waves went down gradually yesterday, and before dinner we shook the third reef out of the main.  At 0200, Eric woke me up to say that the wind had died, and we were taking advantage of the situation to take off the damaged jib. 

    I put on my gear and went on deck.  I was controlling the reel winch for the jib halyard, and had released the brake so David could bring down  the jib.  David was unable to get the jib out of the trace because the feeder, a steel piece that fits into the track to facilitate feeding the sail luff into the groove, was preventing the luff from coming out.  I went forward to  help him take off the feeder, which was a little tricky.  I neglected to tighten the brake on the winch before I went forward, and as a result, when we were occupied lowering the sail, the halyard unwound from the winch and fouled on the spreader, and we were later to find out, fouled on the top of the headstay too. 

    After taking down the jib, which was torn right down the middle, rolling it up like a sausage, and lashing it to the lifelines, we decided to turn on the engine, go to sleep, and continue in the morning to raise the yankee jib in the place of the torn genoa. 

    The next morning I was able to unfoul the halyard from the spreader with little problem, and I thought it was a happy ending for my fuck-up.  However, when we were attaching the sail to the furler, Eric noticed that the halyard at the top of the headstay was not quite running right, it was twisted on something.  We made many attempts to free it from below by looping the halyard around and shaking it about, all to no avail.  Eric had some very harsh words with me about the fact that I had been on the boat for three months and was still making fundamental mistakes.  This is not the first time I have screwed up with the winch brake.  I don’t know what I can do to insure that I won’t do it again.  I don’t feel like I can trust myself.  David volunteered to go up the mast to fix the halyard.  He went up in the bosun’s chair, wearing the bicycle helmet, and was able to fix it in short order.  I feel very low at this point, knowing that Eric has expressed in no uncertain terms his lack of confidence in me.  I can’t possibly have confidence in myself at this point, and I need to do something to remedy this. 

    We are still motoring at this point, looking for wind.  At least it is a beautiful, warm day and we are being followed by four big albatrosses.

Shredding the Jib and Heaving To in a Gale

09/07/02

    Yesterday was not a good day, and today is no great shakes either.  Later on the wind swung around, and it was necessary for us to set the whisker pole and go on a run.  This was okay for a while, but the wind continued to back and I had an unplanned gybe while trying to get the boat on course.  This is not a real big deal when we have the preventer and the pole rigged.  It’s just a pain in the ass to bring the boat around and reset the wind vane.  As the wind continued to back we decided to gybe the boat and run on port tack instead.  At this point we had decided to see a movie, as the boat motion was reasonable, but during the movie the boat gybed three times and we gave up on the movie and decided to roll in the jib for the night to make our position less precarious.  Miraculously, within a minute after we rolled in the jib the wind started really wailing.  It would have destroyed the jib had it been out.  We went below and the wind moderated a bit.  We then decided to put out minimum jib and just do the best we could on a reach through the night.  At this point it was 2230, and I laid down for a little bit before my watch started at 2400.  When I awoke, the boat was crashing all over the place.  As I rose from my bunk, Eric said “You’d better put your gear on.  We’ve got to do something out there.  I’ll get David up, too.  Don’t forget your harness.”  We decided to put the third reef in the main, set the staysail, and heave to.  The jib shredded as we were rolling it in.  I was having a hell of a time raising the main (after the reef) and raising the staysail.  There is a tremendous amount of pressure on these sails, even when we’re heading into the wind.  I felt so weak as I struggled with the winch handle, simultaneously struggling to keep my footing and stay upright on the pitching deck.  I was not able to get the staysail all the way up without loosening the outhaul, which was very stubborn.  Once I got the outhaul loosened and the sail up, there was nothing I could do to tighten the outhaul up again.  It just wouldn’t budge.  Not being able to tighten the outhaul severely reduced the effectiveness of our heaving to, but we were able to get the boat pointed into the wind so we could leave it for the night.  Through the night, the boat bobbed and crashed over the sizable seas that had built up, as the wind stayed around 30 knots most of the night.  As soon as the sun came up, we all got our gear on again and went up to figure out what to do.  Overnight, the plywood wind paddle that sits on top of Victor had snapped right off, with just the nub attached to the mechanism.  There were tatters flapping from the jib.  This sail would not be usable again until it gets fixed in Cape Town.  At this point the wind was blowing 35-40 knots, sometimes approaching 45 knots.

    We had a spare wind vane paddle which we affixed to Victor, then we gybed the boat around to starboard tack and went on a reach.  That leaves us where we are now, rolling with big seas, carrying the least amount of sail that we can, and making 6.5 knots.  The sky is clear but the wind has been blowing a gale.

    This is a situation that I knew was going to happen sooner or later on this trip.  That didn’t prevent me from asking the question “What the heck am I doing here?”  when it happened.  I am frankly relieved somewhat that we got a little heavy weather experience before embarking on our next leg, which is practically guaranteed to have worse conditions than this, though we will be outfitted with more appropriate canvas then.  As I am writing, a wave crashed over the boat that sent spray over the entire rear of the boat, reaching several feet higher than the top of the radar mast.  It looks like its going to be a wild ride into Cape Town.

Wind Shift

09/07/02

    We got a major wind shift last night, which came amidst a driving rain.  The wind swung around to SW, so now we are sailing on starboard (!) tack on a broad reach, which is good for my sleeping.  It was quite cool and damp last night from the rain.  The wind has gone from 10 to 25 knots.

    This morning when I awoke there were swarms of birds surrounding the boat.  Eric had his video camera out, as he had tried to capture an albatross, which of course was gone by the time he had the camera ready.  Later on, as I was sitting in the cockpit, the albatross came back, sat in the water, and took off right next to the boat!  It would have been a perfect video shot, as the albatross taking off is quite a sight, it’s huge webbed feet walking on the water as it struggles to get aloft.  Alas, I had no camera ready.

In and Out With the Jib

09/05/02

    Since yesterday, the jib has been going in and out like an accordion.  The wind will drop to 10-12 knots, and we will roll out the jib, then an hour later it will climb to 20 knots, and we will roll the jib in again.  We are hoping to keep a 150 mile a day pace, as that would get us to Cape Town before the weekend, as we are currently 1050 miles distant.

    We had a number of painted petrels flying around the boat yesterday, and I took the Nikon with zoom lens attached and took some pictures.  Hopefully they will be in focus, as those suckers move fast.  Eric has been working on his book this week, which will be an autobiography entitled “Sailing Free”.  He has been reading the introduction to us during happy hour, and we have been making suggestions.  He thinks he can go through the chapters quickly once he gets started, but of course the book won’t be finished until this trip is finished, as we are the final chapter.

Making Good Time!

09/04/02

I seem to have contained the leaks with my t-shirts (so far!), and we have been continuing to sail on a close reach with 15-20 knot winds, which is wonderful.  Yesterday we made 150 miles.  We measure the mileage officially at 1400 each day.  It is the responsibility of the 1100-1400 watch person to note the GPS position and distance/bearing to waypoint at the end of their watch, which Eric later plots on our Ocean chart.  Yesterday we passed the longitude of Tristan de Cunha, leaving it a few hundred miles to our south.

    So far today we are on a pace to make 170 miles, as we have been averaging around 7 knots.  This is more than 10% of the distance remaining, and it is great to think that every day that percentage will grow, as the distance becomes shorter.  Once we reach the Greenwich Meridian (440 miles away) we will be on the home stretch, though it is hard to think of 900 miles as being a home stretch!

    I saw the Albatross flying about the boat again this morning, but by the time I came back with my camera he was gone.  These birds are very difficult to photograph.

The Leaks Return

09/03/02

    The wind died last night for a while, and we saw another movie (“My Man Godrey” with William Powell) to take advantage of the relatively calm weather.  By the time the movie was over the wind was coming up again, and my 2200 watch was pretty smooth with 12-15 knot winds.  I went to sleep after that, and as often happens, I woke up at the time that David and Eric were changing watches.  I always listen at this time if I’m awake, to see if there are any conditions worth noting.  David mentioned that one of the sail slides had become disconnected from the batten end fitting, as the strap had chafed through from the sail’s slapping over the previous three months.  Then I heard the words “reef” and “main” both mentioned in the same sentence, and I awaited those words “we had better get Bob up”, and upon hearing them sprang up from my bunk and prepared to go on deck.  We put two reefs in the main, as the wind was blowing well over 20 knots, and we also wanted to protect the slideless portion of the sail, which was below the second reef point.  Once again we had to re-tie the bowlines on the reef point lines.  These are the thin lines that are set through grommets that run along the reef point of the sail, and are used to gather up the sagging, unused sale that hangs below the reef.  We rig them with a figure eight on one side, and a bowline loop on the other, so that when we tie in a reef we take the free end, bring it around the loose sail, then do a round turn and two half-hitches through the loop.  Throughout this trip, we have had a problem with the bowline loops working themselves out, so that when the time comes to tie the reef we have to re-tie the bowlines.  This can be quite annoying when you are hanging on the boom for dear life, standing on either the companionway hatch or on the steering pedestal, bracing your body so that the boom does not pitch back and toss you off the boat.  We have tried a number of things to save the bowlines.  In Horta we replaced the lines with smaller ones, and I pre-tied the bowlines and tightened them against a cleat horn before we put them on the sail.  This did not hold up for long, and my next idea was to tie a figure eight before the bowline so the bowline would not make contact with the sail.  I really thought this would work, but a few days later I looked up and once again saw the lines hanging loose where the bowlines should have been.  I guess there is just no way around this.

    The wind continued strong through the night and the seas are building up.  This means that we started taking spray on the port side, and the fucking leaks are starting to come back.  When I awoke this morning, the top of my sleeping bag, which up to now I had managed to protect, was wet, and there was a small wet spot on my sheet.  After several grumbles and curses, I got my old t-shirts out and set to re-rigging my leak stop apparatus.  It is not too bad yet, but I’m afraid the build up of the seas is only beginning.

Two Weeks Till Cape Town!!

09/02/02

    We are still going along well on a reach.  At this point we are about 1650 miles from Cape Town, and should be there in two weeks.  I called Sue on the Iridium and gave her our position.  I can’t wait to get there, see Sue, sleep in a real bed, and eat real food again.  I find that a lot of the time I think about what I’m going to eat when I get back to Long Island.  Not that the food we have on the boat is not good, it’s just that the variety is not that great, and after three months it can get old. 

    The water maker is working once again!

Confirmed Albatross Sighting

09/01/02

    We made some good progress last night, as the wind was around 15 knots, up to 20 at times.  This morning it is back around 10, and we are loping along.  I saw the Albatross again yesterday, and Eric was able to look at it and confirm my identification.  It appears to be a young specimen, not fully grown, though it is still significantly larger than the other birds I have seen.

The Albatross

    Although it is definitely colder now at night, when the sun is shining during the day it is still quite comfortable on deck, and I am still able to get by with shorts and a t-shirt.  I am holding onto the shorts as long as possible, though I have a pair of leggings ready to put on as soon as the temperature drops.  Blue jeans are not practical to wear on the boat, as they soak up moisture like a sponge, and there is a surprising amount of dew accumulating everywhere at night. 

    The water maker has once again started leaking and Eric’s first attempt to fix it has failed.  He will try again today.

Happy Anniversary by Satellite

08/31/02

    The run only lasted a couple of hours yesterday.   The winds were light and the waves were rocking the boat back and forth faster than the wind, which was beating the hell out of the mainsail.  We went back on a reach and have been there since.  Overnight the wind picked up to 12-15 knots and this morning it was starting to push 20, so we tied two reefs in the main.  We are going great now, averaging 6.5 knots and gently rocking side to side.  If we can only keep this up (HA!).

    Today is Sue and my anniversary, and I called her on the Iridium phone this morning.  The Iridium phone is the greatest thing.  To be able to make a phone call from a boat in the middle of the South Atlantic certainly takes away a lot of feelings of isolation and fear.

It's a Beautiful Day

08/30/02

    So far this is a great day.  We are on a broad reach with a mild wind sending us in just the right direction, the seas are moderate, and the water maker is working.  After lunch we are planning to put the jib out on the pole and go on a run.

Back on Port Tack with Light Winds

 Painted Petrels

08/29/02

    We finally had to tack last night after supper, so we are back on port tack.  The good thing is that the seas are calm and winds are light, so we are not heeled and bouncing around so much.  The bad thing is that the winds are light, and we are not making much progress.  The wind died altogether a few times last night, and we ended up starting the engine for a couple of hours.  We won’t be able to motor over 2000 miles to Cape Town, though, so we need to pick up some wind real soon if we want to make it on schedule.  The bulb on the shaft generator burned out again, and we don’t have any more spares.  Now that the water maker is running, we can’t really use it without the shaft generator to replenish the batteries.  Eric wants to see at least 30 gallons from the water maker before we rescind our water saving measures.

    I’ve actually been sleeping better with the colder weather.  The problem is it’s very difficult to get out of my bunk for watch when I’m so warm, and it’s so cold out there.

    The auto light bulb setup with the shaft generator blew out this morning (the bulb burnt out), and since Eric does not have any spare headlight bulbs left, he spent the morning rigging a new arrangement, using a number of lesser bulbs connected in parallel, so that any one bulb will not take too much of a load.  He hasn’t been able to properly test it since the boat hasn’t gone fast enough to get a substantial amount of output from the generator.  Eric is making fresh bread again, which is a great thing.  There’s nothing like an egg/spam salad sandwich on fresh bread for lunch.

    I may have seen an Albatross today.  I didn’t get a good enough look at it, but it was a big bird.  There has been quite a variety of bird life on this leg.  I particularly like the painted petrel, which has this mystical white pattern on the top of its wings.

Starting to Lose the Summer Weather

08/28/02

We were going pretty well through yesterday, maintaining a reach with the NW wind and staying on the rhumb line.  During my 2200 watch the wind veered (shifted to the South.  Veering is the opposite direction in the Southern Hemisphere than it is in the Northern Hemisphere), and I found us sailing close-hauled twenty degrees off course.  At least we were off course to the east, so we could live with that, as it is more important to make east progress than south progress at this point.

On my 0400 watch the wind went wacky, heading us up north before dying altogether and leaving us rocking in the swells with the sails flogging.  I furled the jib and Eric awoke and started the engine.  As of 1100, the boat is back on a reasonable, course, sailing, but not going very fast.

Eric pulled the watermaker apart this morning and found a broken spring.  Unfortunately when he reassembled and tested it again it was leaking around the shaft seal, so he has to take it apart again to find where the seal is not sealing.

Since we left the tropics, the weather has become progressively cooler.  I am starting to use my sleeping bag at night, and whenever we use the engine we turn the heater on, which basically blows hot air from the engine room into the cabin.  I forget that it is mid-winter now in the Southern Hemisphere, and the farther we get from the sun the more we feel it.  We won’t be going too much further south, so I hope it won’t be too bad.  I am still able to wear shorts, at least.

Eric’s third attempt at fixing the water maker appears to have been successful.  He will be running it for three hours a day, and it (should) produce over a gallon an hour.  Until we see a satisfactory accumulation of fresh water from this, we will continue our austerity measures.

I am getting used to being on starboard tack.  Although it is much better for me to sit and sleep in my bunk and to sit in the head, there are other things which are more difficult, such as washing dishes.  I am happy to be on this tack, and I hope it continues.  I already had a situation today where the wind veered and was heading us to 075 degrees, a situation where we would need to tack to get on a better course.  We  backed off a little though, and we have been headed around 110 degrees, which is still not so good, since the true course is heading a little north.  The wind is blowing at us directly from Cape Town.

A Favorable Wind At Last!

08/27/02

We motored through the night with no wind.  Eric made one attempt to sail but that only lasted a half hour.  Later this morning we got a favorable wind, and as of 1130 we are sailing with a nice 14 knot SW wind, on STARBOARD TACK!!!  It is a great thing.  We are on the correct course, on a reach so we are not heeling so much, and what heel we do have is in my favor, meaning I can sit in my bunk without bracing myself on the compression post, I can sleep without being mushed up against the lee cloth, and I can sit on the head without constantly bracing myself against the wall.  This is the first time in about a month that I have been able to do these things.  It is a beautiful day!!

Eric has been unable to get the water maker to work, and is doubtful he can, as it operates under very high pressure (800 psi).  We have only 75 gallons (estimated) remaining for the next three weeks, so we are taking steps to reduce water usage.  We are eliminating the fresh water rinsing of our dishes and reducing coffee and tea consumption.  We don’t have a crisis situation yet, but we want to address the problem before it gets to that point.

A Calm Day!!!

08/26/02

The wind is down around 10 knots this morning, and we are gently rocking.  We will shake the last reef out of the main if this keeps up.  It is nice to be able to stand and sit in the cockpit for extended lengths of time without worrying about getting hit by a wave, which has happened to all of us several times in the past two weeks.  I can not think about anything but getting to Cape Town at this point, and to see Sue.  I would much rather be taking the trip with her than these guys, as they both get on my nerves in different ways.  Unfortunately, we still have almost 2300 miles to go, and will be lucky to make it by the 13th of September.  It will be so good to get away from this boat for a while.

I just finished reading the book “Cold Mountain”, and all I can think about is breakfast at Cracker Barrel, with country ham, eggs, biscuits and gravy, and grits.  I’m pretty sure that stuff can’t be found in Cape Town.

We are still waiting for the wind to swing around to the west.  Maybe the drop in wind is a precursor to that.  I hope so.

As of 1700, the wind has still died and it is trying to pick up again.  I noticed a small tear in the jib, and due to the lack of wind we were able to drop the sail and patch the tear pretty easily.  We had happy hour on the foredeck since I was sitting on  the sail and couldn’t move until the glue for the patch dried.

Eric has been trying to run the water maker today, since we are getting low on fresh water.  It ran for a few minutes and produced half a cup of water before the water stopped coming out.  He is cleaning the membrane to see if this will solve the problem.

It is nice to have a calm day for once.  I was able to trim my moustache and relax a little.  It is like having a day off.  We have also tacked over to starboard tack, which doesn’t mean much since there’s little wind anyway.  We are currently heading dead east at 2.5 knots.

Radar Reflector Down Again

08/25/02

We have had drizzle off and on today, and the waves haven’t been so bad until this afternoon, when they started bashing us again, just in time for happy hour.  We have made it back across 30 degrees W, but we still have 45 degrees longitude more to go.  Eric’s re-rigging of the radar reflector broke again, so we have once again lowered it and are thinking about how to fix it this time.

More Second Thoughts

08/24/02

We are still sailing close-hauled, but the wind is down to 15-18 knots and the seas are considerably more moderate.  This morning we re-rigged the radar reflector, and shook one reef out of the mainsail, so now we have one reef instead of two.  We also wrapped the jib furling line around the drum a couple of times, as it had tightened up with the high winds.  This required taking the furling line out of all the fairleads and running it around the drum, which was a real pain in the ass.

I have been having some second thoughts about continuing through the Southern Ocean.  I am not sure I can stand up to the rigors of sailing in the Southern Ocean for so long.  I am having enough trouble just in the South Atlantic.  I keep going back and forth on this.  This trip does seem like it is taking a large chunk out of my life, and it is hard to make this big commitment.  I haven’t spoken to anyone else about this yet.

More Things Breaking

08/23/02

We are continuing with the same fucking conditions.  Through the night the wind would blow 20 knots, drop to 10 for a few minutes, then go up to 25-30, then down to a steady 20 again.

We turned the clocks forward an hour to GMT yesterday, because it was getting dark too early.  The problem is that we are really 2 hours behind GMT, so the sun may not set until 2000, but now it doesn’t rise until 0800.  It is our own twisted daylight savings time, and since we are in the middle of the ocean, we can keep whatever freakin’ time we want.

We had a nice full moon showing last night, which really brightens things up.  I saw a very unusual falling star.  It looked like it was very close, like fireworks or a flare going off, and fell very slowly and brightly.

When I woke up this morning for my 0800 watch (in pitch darkness), I heard a new banging noise on the port side.  When I got up, Eric informed me about what it was and what we would have to do about it.  The halyard that holds the radar reflector was wrapped around a shroud, banging against another shroud as the boat heaved in the waves.  What we would need to do is drop the sails and head downwind while Eric goes up the mast and reeves a new halyard.  David and I got up, put on our foul weather gear, and went on deck.  Eric had on his long pants and padded jacket in preparation for going aloft.  He also had a bicycle helmet he was going to wear.

After we dropped the mainsail and were headed into the wind, we saw that the radar reflector was starting to unwrap itself from the shrouds.  After allowing it to unwrap completely, we were able to get it lowered properly, and saw that it was not the halyard that was broken, it was the wire pendant that attached the bottom of the radar reflector to the halyard that was broken.  We tied off the halyard, disconnected the radar reflector, and stowed it down below.  We had thus avoided the necessity for Eric to go up the mast.

Dreaming of Home

08/22/02

    Last night things were less bouncy and I was able to get some good sleep, the first in a while.  I always have dreams that somehow the boat has stopped back home before continuing the voyage.  I often think about all the things I’m missing back in Long Island, and that I’d rather be doing the trip with Sue instead of these two guys.  I think I would be having a lot more fun.  As of this afternoon, the seas are back up again, and I am struggling just to sit at the table to write in this log.  At this point we have about 2700 miles to go to Cape Town.  I have to learn to be patient.  Maybe I’ll feel better in a week or two, especially if we ever get off this FUCKING PORT TACK!!!

    The last couple of days I have had a bothersome twitching vein in my left temple.  I hope it’s nothing serious, probably just the effects of sleeping on a steep decline for a week and a half.

Rigging Failure - Bye Bye Turnbuckle

08/21/02

We continued to get our brains bashed in through the night, with the winds between 20 and 30 knots.  I had the dawn watch this morning, and the first time I went up in the cockpit to look around after day break, I first looked to starboard to study the horizon for ships, then looked to port.  As I looked to port, instead of seeing the horizon as I expected, I saw a wall of water looming over the boat.  It was quite alarming, but really harmless, as the wave just passed underneath the boat, gently lifting us up and setting us down on the other side.  The wind continued to increase to a steady 30 knots this morning, and since we had already reefed the jib as much as we could, the next step was to furl the jib altogether and set the staysail.  Eric offered harnesses if we wanted to use them.  Both David and I opted to try them out.  I’m not sure I felt any safer wearing it.  The conditions weren’t so bad once we got out there.  I didn’t even get splashed.  Of course, now that we have rigged the staysail, the wind is back down to 20 knots.  We are expecting to make it to 20 degrees S latitude today, which, according to the pilot chart, should get us out of the trade winds and into the “variables”.  I don’t have a lot of faith in the pilot charts at this point, so I’m trying not to think about it.

This afternoon, towards the end of my watch, Eric came out and suggested pulling out a little jib.  We went into the cockpit, unrolled the jib a little, and I went forward to pull the port jib sheet down around the forestay, to prevent chafing, and found to my horror that the turnbuckle had broken cleanly at the screw, and the entire forestay was hanging on by the wire pennant.  I exclaimed “Holy Shit!!  The turnbuckle’s broken!”  I turned back to Eric and said we would need to get the staysail down right away, that the turnbuckle is broken.  He came forward and confirmed, and we got David and furled the staysail.  Eric then went down below and found a spare turnbuckle that he had purchased at a nautical flea market in the Caribbean, and we started the process of replacing it.  The seas were still pretty heavy, and I had to hand steer downwind to reduce the effects of the waves.  This failure does not give us a warm feeling, as the turnbuckle that broke is the same turnbuckle as on the rest of the standing rigging.  If this had happened to any of the other turnbuckles, the results could be catastrophic.  All we can do is be glad they didn’t and hope for the best.

Living in a Washing Machine

08/20/02

This motion is really starting to fray my nerves.  Last night I spilled hot noodles and gravy all over the table and my leg when eating dinner.  It was hard enough dealing with the problem of keeping my plate level, but the addition of cleaning up the spill was almost too much.  It is a major frustration to eat dinner from a moving plate.  Then, after dinner I was in the head, and was tossed from the toilet seat, breaking off the seat lid.  I felt like the boat was against me for my every movement, and I am losing my will to fight back.  The problem is apparently that the wind and the current are at odds with one another, and the results are these confused, choppy seas.  Last night the crashing of the boat was quite intense, and we rolled the jib down past the third reef to slow the boat enough to reduce the crashing.  On every crash, I was expecting for something to break, as every fixture on the boat was being strained.  Later in the night, things got better, and I was able to get some semi-quality sleep when off-watch.  Although I seem to have stopped the dripping with my t-shirt dams, my sheet has been permanently saturated.  I figure the fabric is now 65% cotton and 35% sea salt.

It is now 1600, and the wind and waves have gotten worse again.  The wind has increased to 25-30 knots and the waves are all over the place, constantly hammering the boat, and throwing it around.  I tried to take a nap this afternoon, but the body slam action was too much.  Eric estimates we have seen some waves up to 15 feet.  He unfortunately decided to serve soup for lunch today, before he realized how hard it would be to eat.  Luckily there were no mishaps, but as I ate it, using one hand to adjust the bowl and the other to eat, I had one leg on the galley table seat and the other on the armrest.  The boat continues to make scary noises as it pounds the waves, and I expect some catastrophic failure in the rigging, but I need to have more confidence in this boat.  I have to stop complaining about the weather, as I am learning that the sea does not take kindly to complainers.

The Wile E. Coyote Wave

08/19/02

    Things are still going pretty much the same.  We are continuing to have our brains bashed in by the waves.  As I sit here, we are feeling a succession of serious crunches, each accompanied by a loud crash.  You can feel every joint on the boat flex and creak.  I expect the whole thing to fly apart any minute.  At night, when lying in my bunk, I can only imagine what the boat must be doing by the motion I feel.  Occasionally I experience what I call a “Wile E. Coyote Wave”.  It feels as though the boat came off the top of a wave, suspended in mid-air momentarily with nowhere to go, then dropping several feet with a crash into the trough of the next wave.  The worst is to experience a Wile E. Coyote while sitting in the head.

    At this point we are about 15 degrees S latitude – less than 500 miles from our arbitrary waypoint at 23 degrees S.  We are hoping to get some more favorable winds to drive us east at some point.

Crapping on the Back of a Wild Bull

08/18/02

    The GPS outage was only temporary as it turns out.  As I sit here this morning, braced sideways on the galley table seat, the boat is being pummeled by steep choppy waves, and the boat is on a steady 20-30 degree heel.  Both the boat and us are taking a tremendous amount of punishment.

    Last night, we experienced a series of rains squalls, which resulted in varying wind effects, from calms up to 30 knot winds.  All morning the wind has been blowing 20-25 knots, and the motion is unbearable.  Using the head is not easy when the toilet seat suddenly drops five feet below you.  My description of sailing close-hauled is “sleeping in a washing machine and taking a crap on the back of a wild bull”.  There is nothing we can do but hold on and stick it out.

GPS on the Fritz

08/17/02

    The wind conditions have continued the same since yesterday, winds around 20 knots creeping up to 25+ sometimes.  The waves continue to be big and choppy, resulting in frequent pounding of the boat, accompanied by loud crashes occasionally.

    At the end of my watch this morning the GPS made a loud beep.  I went and looked at the display and there was a pop-up message that said “No Fix”.  We turned the unit off and back on, and it did not properly register the course or speed, indicating that there was still a problem.  We turned it off again for a few minutes, and when we turned it back on it was working again, but only for a minute or two, then went blank.  Eric brought his handheld backup unit, turned it on and propped it in the cockpit.  After several interminable minutes, the handheld finally located the satellites and gave a proper reading.  I fiddled with the main GPS for a while, unplugging and re-plugging the antenna, to no avail.  The only suggestion the manual could make was to check the ground connection on the antenna, a job which will need to wait for calmer weather, as the GPS antenna is mounted on top of the radar mast.

More Drips

08/16/02

    The drips didn’t stop last night, but seemed to be localized to my feet and ankles, so I threw the sheet over my feet and persevered.  The wind conditions have continued the same, and I am getting used to it a little.

The Party's Over

08/15/02

    I had a horrendously miserable night last night.  Everything that could go wrong went wrong for me.  To start, the wind increased to 20 knots and the seas increased along with it.  This meant the return of the body slam in the bunk routine.  Also, I discovered that the dripping problem was not corrected by the caulking we did in Fernando.  It is now back, worse than ever. 

    At the start of my 0000-0200 watch, Eric told me to call him if the wind exceeds 25 knots and we would all reef the main.  I was nearing the end of my watch, looking at the wind speed to decide if I should wake everybody up, when the steering lines went slack on Victor and the boat started heading up into the wind.  I was trying to figure out what was happening, and didn’t notice Victor yet, when Eric sprang out, very upset that I had not taken any action yet.  I went out and hand steered while Eric checked the lines.  We decided to reef the main after the steering lines were fixed.  This time, when I raised the halyard after reefing, I did not have the halyard winch brake engaged all the way, and the sail dropped back down shortly after I raised it.  I could do nothing right.  At this moment, I feel quite discouraged with myself, as low as I have been the entire trip.  My bunk is soaked with seawater and I am sitting here dripping with sweat, for we have had to close all the hatches, and Eric is talking about putting another reef in the main, as the wind is exceeding 25 knots and doesn’t show any sign of letting up.  I am wondering if I am really mentally fit to continue the trip into the Southern Ocean, if I am having so much trouble holding up under these conditions.

    We just put the second reef in the main, and that procedure went smoothly.  We are still taking quite a bit of spray, and I have three shirts arranged across the shelf over my bunk, in an attempt to stop the dripping.  There are drips coming in all over the cabin today.  The waves have been beating the hell out of the boat.  Dampness is the word for today.  I can only keep telling myself that this is a temporary condition.

    We put up the dodger this afternoon, to prevent us from getting spray into the cabin, which happened all too often, even with the companionway hatch closed.  I am thoroughly soaked, even though I put on foul weather gear to go out.  The problem is that the foul weather gear is so warm that I sweat enough to soak myself as much as I would have if I wasn’t wearing it.  I generally am caked with salt, as is my bed sheet, which prevents it from ever getting dry.  As of 1700, things are calming down just a little.  The wind is between 15 and 20 knots and the waves aren’t hitting the boat quite the way they were before.  With any luck I can avoid drips tonight and sleep a little.

On the Seas Once Again

08/14/02

    Things are going very smoothly so far.  We have a nice consistent 12-15 knot wind from SouthEast, and very moderate seas, almost perfect sailing conditions.  The current has been going against us a little, but that effect has been decreasing.  We set a waypoint for 23 degrees S, 32 degrees W, at which time we will think about working our way east.  Our eventual goal (Cape Town) is 35 degrees S, 15 degrees E.  We gave the wife of the South African, Robin, 30 Reals to make four loaves of bread for us before we left, and they are quite good. 

    The Perseid meteor shower was supposed to be peaking last night, but I did not see more than two or three falling stars during my watch, which is about average.  I have seen other nights that have been much more active with regards to shooting stars.  It is one of the things that makes night watches bearable.  Now that I am getting into the southern hemisphere I am looking for new constellations.  I only know of the Southern Cross and the Magellanic Clouds.  I am not sure where I am supposed to see them and what they look like.  I think the Magellanic Clouds don’t show up until further south, but I am keeping my eyes out for them.

Happy Birthday, Fernando!!

 Birthday Cake for an Island

08/11/02

    Yesterday was the 499th birthday of the island, and there was a festival at the Porto.  They had live music, and people selling food.  I had a couple different kinds of desserts, all very good.  We met a nice couple who spoke English.  He is from Italy and she is from Sao Paulo, but they met at school in Berkeley, California. 

    Later on, they brought out a birthday cake for the island, with dolphins on top.  Of course, I got a piece.  The dolphin is the symbol of the island, and everything you see has a dolphin on it.  During the cake cutting, there was a minor tragedy.  A man appeared in front of the cake, obviously drunk, holding a roman candle in his hands.  He held the cylinder up in the air and lit the fuse.  The cylinder sends up fiery balls that go up in the air and explode with a loud bang.  He was not watching where the cylinder was pointed, and as a result the fiery balls hit the overhang of the roof on the bandstand, and shot straight down into the crowd of people gathered around the cake, exploding as they hit the ground.  There were screams and general pandemonium for a minute, but nobody appeared to be seriously hurt.  At once, a crowds of guys accosted the drunk who was responsible, and an altercation started between two groups of people.  Luckily cooler heads prevailed and a volatile situation was avoided. 

    There had been a fishing tournament that day, and a great amount of time was spent giving out trophies.  There must have been at least 20 trophies, including three trophies that were sardine cans encased in Lucite, given for the smallest fish.

    The next morning was spent recaulking ports that were suspected of leaking, including the aft port over my bunk, and two of the big windows on the galley, as there had been leaks in the galley too.  In the afternoon we took the dinghy to the next beach over and went snorkeling.  There were many colorful, brilliant fish.  Eric spotted an eel.  After that, we went to the local snack bar at the beach for a beer.  While we were there, we saw the couple that we had met the night before and invited them over to join us.  We talked to them a while, then invited them to come in the dinghy and see the boat.  They came along, and were quite impressed, as neither of them knew anything about sailing.  Afterward, Eric took them and David ashore and left me on the boat. 

Our New Friends at the Beach Cafe

    David and I went in for lunch, and ate at a “self-service” restaurant, which is a buffet.  The food was all quite good, with a good variety.  From there I took the bus into the village of Remedios and found a gentleman who was renting bicycles.  He rented me a mountain bike for the day for 10 Reals ($4), with no deposit required.  I neglected to check the brakes on the bicycle before I took it, and they were a bit loose, which made me nervous when going down some of the very steep hills.  I was at least able to climb up the hills, with the low gear, but it was very strenuous.  I drank several bottles of Gatorade.  I explored the main road and some of the back roads, where goats were feeding all around.  There are beautiful beaches everywhere.  On my way back I stopped by the Dolphin Hotel and checked my e-mail again, then headed back to the village, returned the bicycle, and exchanged more money.  I walked around the lower part of the village, near the beach, and went into a nice café that was filled with native paintings and sculpture.  On my way back up the hill I noticed a Pizzeria that looked interesting.

A Deserted Beach on the Other Side of the Island

    I then took a bus back to the Porto, and had a beer at the snack bar while waiting for everyone else to show up.  David had gone scuba diving in the afternoon and Eric was still on the boat, as I could see by the dinghy trailing behind FIONA in the harbor.  David came along and the South Africans also showed up, the doctor, his wife, their two young children, and one of the crew.  They joined us for a beer, and I talked to the crew member.  His prior experience had been working on large motor yachts, mainly as service, not related to sailing.  Both he and the other crew member had only dinghy sailing experience, so everybody on the boat was quite new to offshore sailing.  He said it was very tight to have six people on a 36 foot boat, but they were getting used to it. 

    When Eric showed up, I bought him a beer too, and the guy from the dive shop found David and took him back to the office to re-swipe his credit card.  Eric and I weren’t sure when he was coming back, so we started walking towards town.  Soon after we left he came with the dive shop guy in a truck and gave us a ride into town, where we ate at the pizzeria.  The pizza was quite good, though the bathroom was unusual.  There was only a toilet in a room, with a filled laundry basket in one corner.  I could not figure out for the life of me how to flush the toilet, as there was only a bowl on the floor with water in it, but no tank anywhere.  I looked all around outside but could not find a lever or a chain anywhere.

    After dinner, we went and got an ice cream and were waiting for the bus, when we saw our Italian/Brazilian friends again.  They were also waiting for the bus, and though we were going west, decided to get on the Porto bus with us, so they could talk to us one last time.

    The next morning we went produce shopping, taking the bus to the Supermercardos.  The produce there was not very good, but we did get some good onions, pears, and local pineapples.  After we took the stuff back to the boat, we went back into town so Eric could change more money, looked around a little more, and found a museum which showed the history of the island.  It was all in Portuguese, but I was able to figure out that the island was discovered by Amerigo Vespucci on August 10, 1503 (this was the day that was being celebrated).  After that we took a shortcut back to the Porto and arrived at Elda’s Cantinho just as they were opening, for our last lunch at Fernando de Noronha.

Cantinho del Porto

    We were back at the boat by 1330 in the afternoon and packed up everything quickly.  We were lifting the anchor by 1430.  After we left the harbor, we raised the sail and went on starboard tack to clear the island.  During this time Eric noticed that the jib sheet winch on the starboard side was frozen and wouldn’t turn.  This is a big problem, as we need that winch operational before we go on port tack, and we will be on port tack for the first 1200 miles of this leg, at least.  Eric disassembled the winch while we were on starboard tack and fiddled with it until it started turning, applying winch grease and WD-40.  After going another hour on starboard tack, we tacked over to port tack and have been there since.

Fernando de Noronha

 View of the Harbor from Cantinho del Porto

08/10/02

    We arrived in Fernando de Noronha yesterday morning.  There were five other sailboats anchored in the wide, open harbor, and one mini-megayacht which seemed completely out of place.  Overlooking the harbor is this gigantic rock formation which closely resembles a pointed head. 

    The harbor in general provides little protection from the wind, and the boat was rocking the whole time we were here, with 15-18 knot winds from the south (the harbor is on the north of the island).  It really is a pretty place, with a multitude of colorfully painted wooden boats moored in the harbor.  Tourism is a large part of the business in Fernando, and a major attraction for the tourism is skindiving.  There were numerous dive boats, all loaded with people.  The vast majority of the tourists are Brazilians, so there is little allowance for English speaking people. 

    We have found one very helpful woman who runs the restaurant at the top of the hill overlooking the harbor, named “Cantinho del Porto”.  Her name is Elda, and she has only had the restaurant open for less than two months.  It used to be owned by her ex-husband, but she took it over as part of the divorce settlement.  It is an unusual restaurant, as you wouldn’t think anything was there to look at it from the outside.  There is no interior, only a concrete patio overlooking the harbor, and a small area that is covered with a roof, has a few native paintings and fish sculptures hanging on the wall, and a hammock, which often had somebody sleeping in it.  The food was quite good, though Eric was disappointed that he couldn’t get fish and chips there, which had been served by the last restaurant (the one that was run by Elda’s ex).  Elda was able to direct us to the internet place, and to exchange money for us.  I found that when I exchanged dollars for reals, I ended up with a number of fifty real notes, and nobody could make change for these, so I would end up paying for stuff in dollars anyway. 

Elda, Proprietress of Cantinho del Porto

    When  we first arrived on shore, we went to the nearest official looking place, which turned out to be an office for charter boats, and told them we had just arrived by yacht from Cabo Verde, and needed to check into customs.  After telling us to wait a few minutes, they had Eric speak to someone on the VHF radio, then they had us climb in their VW bus and took us into town.  One of them took us into the red office building, at the bottom of a steep hill in the town, and we wandered to a couple of offices until Eric spoke to someone who said it is not necessary to have any clearance to visit Fernando.  It is as if we were never here, as far as they’re concerned.  After that, we went to the local dive shop to exchange money.  I got 260 Reals for $100.  We had a beer at a local bar/restaurant, then decided to walk back to the port and eat at the Cantinho.

The Official-Looking Red Building

    After lunch, we went back to the boat, and I wrote 18 postcards while the other two were taking a nap. 

    We had spotted a yacht from South Africa, on our way in, and had stopped by to say hello.  It was a retired doctor, Daren, and his wife, Robin, sailing with their two young children and two hired crew members.  He had only been sailing for five months.  He had taken a sailing course, bought the boat (named “Dream On”) and took off.  Their intention was to go to the Caribbean and work their way to Florida and take the ICW up to Maine.  We invited them to come by the boat later for happy hour.

    It gets dark at 1800 here, so  it was dark when we went for dinner.  We decided to take a taxi into town.  All of the taxis in Fernando are dune buggies, which have a front passenger seat, but the rear seat is not big enough to seat an adult.  Additional passengers are thus accommodated by having a bar on the rear of the roof that they can hold on to, so we are sitting on the trunk with our feet in the back seat and our heads sticking out over the roof.  It is a fun ride, as long as it is not raining.  It has only rained a total of ten minutes, and fortunately that came right after I went swimming, so I got a little fresh water rinse.  It was not enough  rain to make a difference, and I got splashed again with sea water on our next dinghy ride anyway.  There are no shower facilities here, which is bothersome, as it will be at least a month before my next real shower, but I guess I’ll get used to it.  My big problem is an underwear shortage.  It appears I only have one pair of clean underwear to last until Cape Town, and no place to do laundry here.  I guess I will have to make do.

The Taxi Stand

Fernando Within Sight

 Approaching Fernando de Noronha

08/09/02

    My drip came back again yesterday afternoon, and has dampened my sheet pretty thoroughly.  I was able to rig something up with my t-shirt at the source of the leak to prevent further damage and water torture.

    It is now 0900 and we can see Fernando ahead.  This will be a very welcome landfall.  The motion of the boat for the last day and a half has been most erratic.  It is like the boat, sitting at a 20 degree heel, is moving through space in a spiral, as the waves are tossing us from the side, up, down, right, left, in random order.  It will all be over with in two hours and we will be safe at anchor (hopefully).

Waking up to Porpoises

08/08/02

Father Neptune Welcomes us to the Southern Hemisphere

   
As I came up to the cockpit at dawn this morning, I heard the sound of porpoises breathing.  As I looked around, there were porpoises everywhere, between 20 and 30 of them.  Some were coming up near the boat, when in the distance I saw a group of ten all leap completely out of the water at once, all in a line.  It was quite a sight to be greeted with first thing in the morning.  I then noticed two dead flying fish who had made a fatal flight onto our deck the night before, and gave them a proper burial at sea.  The wind has come up again to 15-18 knots, and though we are heeled and rocking, I am happy because the increased speed is going to get us to Fernando de Noronha quicker, and I will be happy to see land.  At this rate, we should be arriving mid-morning tomorrow.

    After lunch, it was necessary to reef the main, as the seas are starting to build up and the wind speed is approaching 20 knots.  I am again being effected by the heat, which wasn’t so bad the last few days, but now is back.  I haven’t had a shower in a week and a half, and my hair is starting to grow back, so it feels matty and saturated with dried sweat, as are my sheets and pillow cases.  It is doubtful we will be able to get showers at Fernando, either, so I will probably have to make do with the two gallon hand shower.  Of course, laundry will be out of the question.  I am hoping we will be able to stay there for a few days, before departing for our longest leg of the trip, so far.

We Have Company

08/07/02

    Last night was another fairly miserable night.  I spent my 2000-2200 watch desperately keeping the boat on course to avoid the rocks.  The wind speed had increased to 20 knots, and I was getting hit with quite a bit of spray as I was adjusting lines on deck.  I was looking forward to ending my watch so I could dry off a little.  Imagine my chagrin when I finished my watch and went to my bunk, only to find one of my pillows soaked and my sheets damp. 

   The leak which I had experienced on the Tenerife leg was back.  Luckily, the wet pillow was one I was using to pad my lee cloth with, so it didn’t matter so much that it was wet.  I shoved the pillows over, straightened out the sheets, and pole-vaulted into the bunk.  It didn’t feel too bad, then after a few minutes a wave hit the port side and I felt a single drip on my leg.  A few minutes later, another drip.  I draped a t-shirt over my leg to dampen the effect of the Chinese water torture, which helped… until I felt a drip on my torso.  Now this was starting to piss me off. 

   I struggled with different combinations of the t-shirt and the sheets (with the tropical heat I couldn’t keep myself covered with the sheets), when finally I heard Eric and David in the cockpit, and Eric uttered those golden words, “We need to tack”.  When I at last heard the order “Ready about… Hard to lee!!”  I knew my troubles would be over.  On the other tack, I did not have the waves hitting my side of the boat, and the drips stopped.  Also I was in a better sleeping position, being nestled in a valley rather than teetering on a mountaintop.  I got to sleep for a while, then again heard the orders “Ready about…  Hard  to lee!!”.  I was crushed.

    I had enjoyed my new position for only an hour before reverting back to hell.  This next time wasn’t so bad, as the leaks magically had stopped, and I soon had to get up for my watch.  When I got up, I found that the wind had shifted temporarily, causing the tack, but when they realized the new course was taking us to the rocks, they tacked back.  Also, one of Victor’s steering lines had broken, and rather than try to fix it in the dark with 20-25 knot winds, Eric decided to let George steer.  This requires a certain amount of vigilance on the part of the person on watch.  George can only steer on a compass course, not relative to the wind direction, so when sailing close-hauled I need to watch to make sure George does not bring the boat into irons.  I spent the entire watch cowered in the cockpit to avoid spray, watching the wind direction, ready to tweak George at any instant.  The wind speed was staying around 20 knots, and we had full main with triple reefed jib, and we were heeling dramatically.

    We officially crossed the equator at 1204 today, crossing at longitude 30 degrees 15’W.  We celebrated by having a drink of Porto Branco (Portuguese white port) in the cockpit.  Tomorrow we will have an official ceremony where Father Neptune will appear and pronounce David and I as sons of Neptune.  I will be a pollywog no more.

    Today Eric started baking bread again, as we have run out of store-bought bread for the first time since the Azores.  This is something I have been looking forward to, though I am sure Eric hasn’t been looking forward to it.  The winds are now moderating, and I am not fighting the boat as much, thus my state of mind is much improved over yesterday.  At these difficult times I always ask myself if I have the constitution to continue on this voyage.  I just have to keep reminding myself that all these conditions are temporary (did I say that already?), and milder times are around the corner (maybe not the next corner, but around some corner).

    After I wrote the above paragraph, I took an afternoon nap, and when I awoke, the wind was less than 10 knots and we are barely moving.  Now I am wishing to have the wind back.  We are never satisfied.

Our Visitor

    Yesterday evening, we had a visitation from a Brown Booby.  This is a brown bird with gray markings underneath its wings and body, and a gray, human looking face with big round, black eyes.  It came swooping around the area of the boat, hovering close above the water and occasionally diving in, causing a flush of flying fish to rise out of the water.  It flew up right next to the sail, acting like it wanted to land on the rigging or the masthead, but the boat’s motion was too furious for a landing to be possible.  Finally, he decided to make an attempt at the radar antenna, and after a few aborted landings, made his perch there.  He sat on the antenna for at least an hour, resting and preening himself, and allowing us to get a few pictures.  The bird book associated the brown booby with the Paulo and Pedro rocks, and we were close to the rocks at that time.  Other than this bird, the flying fish, and frequent sightings of little black birds with white spots on their backs (I believe those are Wilson’s Storm Petrels), we have seen no other life in the equatorial region.

Sailing Close-Hauled to avoid Paulo and Pedro

08/06/02

    It is now 1500 on the afternoon of the sixth, and I am still fighting gravity as I sit writing at the galley table.  The winds continue to blow from the south, and we must sail as close to the wind as possible to stay on course and make sure we don’t hit the Paulo and Pedro rocks.  These are two rocks that rise out of the middle of the ocean at 1 degree N 29 degrees 15’ W.  They are not lit, and we will be passing them in the night (with a new moon, no less), so we need to be very careful to keep clear of them.

    Last night, on my 2200-2400 watch, I was trying so hard to keep the course that I had Victor steering too close to the wind, and when I was down below checking the GPS, the boat rounded through the wind, backing both the jib and the main.  This caused Eric to suddenly roll across his bunk, wakening him.  He came out and helped me get the boat situated.  It was a very frustrating watch for me, as the wind conditions changed, causing me to first reef the jib, then later unreef it, and iteratively harden the main sheet to try to point as much as possible into the wind.  I had trouble cranking in the jib, as the starboard side winch is hobbled, the self-tailer doesn’t work until we get the parts in Cape Town, so I had to tail with one hand and crank with the other.  Of course, once Eric got involved the wind got more consistent and we were able to point in the right direction. 

   I felt very frustrated then, but later today I was a bit more successful at adjusting the sail trim to get the right course.  I’ll be very happy when this beating stops, though, if it ever does before we get to Fernando.  I would enjoy cruising so much better if we never sailed close-hauled.  I know, of course, that this is impossible, so I will just have to learn to live with it. 

Bad News from Home

08/05/02

    We have been sailing close-hauled since yesterday afternoon, on port tack, and heeling dramatically, which really sucks.  But at least we are making good progress in the right direction, and appear to be getting out of the influence of the current.

    I had some very distressing news when I spoke to Sue on the Iridium this morning.  Our cat, “Maxx” was hit by a car and died last week.  It is strange that I had a dream about the cats last week, and felt that something might be wrong.  Maxx was our youngest, most playful of the three cats, and I will miss him greatly.  I always think of him when I am in my bunk on port tack and holding onto my lee cloth line, the same way that Maxx would hang onto my arm when I picked him up.

Maxx the Cat

    Because of the large discrepancy between the GPS speed and the log speed, Eric decided to do an experiment.  He sent David to the bow to throw a beer can into the water and shout “Now!!”.  At that time I would start my stopwatch and Eric, standing at the stern, would shout “Now!!” as soon as he saw it float past the stern.  We then took the elapsed time and extrapolated it out to the speed in knots.  We took a few attempts to get a good reading, as the beer can went under the boat the first time, and Eric didn’t see it coming.  We ended up using paper towels instead.  Our last calculation was that we were doing 6.1 knots, which is within the margin of error for such a test.

    Nothing gets me in a foul mood more than sailing close-hauled for an extended period of time.  It is one thing to have the boat in constant motion, but to constantly be fighting gravity on top of this is no less than infuriating.  These are the times when I question my wisdom of taking on this journey.  I can only assure myself that all points of sail are temporary (some less than others), and if we EVER get to the southwest trade winds we will be on a reach for the remainder of this leg.  We have not had good luck so far with trade winds, so I won’t count on it.

Struggling to head south

08/04/02

    The rain eventually stopped yesterday, though the sun never came out, and as we are sailing close-hauled, we are constantly taking water over the bow, so we could still not get any ventilation below.  The wind has been hovering at 18-20 knots all day and we have been heeling rather uncomfortably.  Doing the dishes after dinner (another excellent chicken curry) was a real challenge, even with the strap holding me in place. 

    After dinner, we tied a couple of reefs in the main sail.  I accidentally tied the third reef cringle instead of the second reef cringle, and couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t get the main all the way up, thinking that the halyard was fouled on something on the mast, which is usually the case.  As it was dark at the time, I couldn’t see up the mast to tell if the halyard was free or not.  We were shining flashlights up the mast but could not find a problem.  Finally I realized my error, retied the proper cringle, and the main came up fine.  Once the reefing was done, things were quite a bit more comfortable and we settled into the cabin to watch “Moby Dick”.

    This morning the wind had moderated and shifted a little to throw us off course some.  We are struggling to work south below 5 degrees North latitude, where the current is supposed to be more favorable and the southeast trade winds begin.  It is important that we do not go too far west, since if we get caught in the equatorial current too soon we can easily miss Fernando de Noronha, with no possibility of getting back to it.  Of course the wind now is blowing SSW, and we are struggling for any southward progress we can make.  Also the current is pushing against us 1.5-2 knots, but at least it is not raining and is not unbearably hot, as the sun had been obscured most of the day.  At this point we are about 600 miles from Fernando and 300 miles from the equator.

Rain and Wind adds to the Frustration

08/03/02

    We kept motoring yesterday, though we kept the main up in hopes that some wind would come.  Finally at 1615 we got a breeze, set the jib, and stopped the engine.

   This lasted a whole fifteen minutes before the wind died again.  Later on that night, at the end of David’s watch, we got another wind coming up and killed the engine again.  The wind rose further up to 20 knots, and we reefed the jib, then it started raining heavily.  We turned on the radar and saw that we appeared to be passing through a squall.  Eric’s opinion was that the whole thing would be over in half an hour and we would be back to no wind.  I kept an eye on it during my 2200-2400 watch.

   The rain abated somewhat, but the wind kept up.  I turned in, and when I woke up for my next watch, David was soaked, and was taking a bottle of dish soap on deck to have a shower.  He had experienced heavy rains and wild, shifting winds throughout his watch.  By the time I took over, the winds were down to 8 knots and the rain was slacking off.  The rain continued to lessen, and I saw the moon and a few stars come out.  The wind increased to 15 knots and veered to the northwest.  I should have let out the sails and put us on a reach, but I wasn’t thinking.  In the end it didn’t matter much, as the wind was all over the place through the morning.

   When I woke up this morning, it was still raining heavily and Eric and David were going up on deck to tack.  It’s a good thing I got up when I did, because 5 minutes later I would be lying on my face.  The wind continued quite fickle all morning, and we just let it go until into my watch.  Eric decided our course was too far off, and we might do better to tack.  At this point the winds were 8-10 knots.  Eric and I went up to tack, and the wind died.  He started the engine, but we were not able to make headway against the large seas.  After fiddling around for some time trying to find something that worked, the wind picked up to 15 knots and we decided to go on starboard tack (a great relief to me, though with the waves bashing, neither tack was really comfortable).

   The  compass course we are steering now is good (230 degrees), but the GPS is showing that we are heading 170!  There is some strange current pushing us.

   As of now, it has stopped raining and the sun is poking out.  The wind is still 15 knots, but we are not making good headway against the waves.  I believe this whole rain storm started in on us when David announced yesterday that he was going to sleep on deck that night because of the heat.  Of course he didn’t get to sleep on deck, and it is as stuffy as ever below, as we have had to close the hatches to keep out the rain.

Dying in the Heat

08/02/02

    Yesterday was a horrendously hot day.  The temperature within the cabin rose into the 90’s, and there was no escape from the heat.  At this moment I feel baked from the inside out, and can not get enough to drink.  I am going through my red zinger tea at an alarming rate, and am sure I won’t have enough to last to Cape Town at this pace.  Yesterday afternoon David asked to stop the boat so he could jump in, and this request was granted.  Also in the afternoon the boat hit some kind of buoy.  We couldn’t get a good look at it, but it was small and had a long black stick coming out of it, resembling either a radio antenna or a fishing pole.  We have also seen three ships in the last day.  It’s very strange that we can go for a week without seeing one ship, then see three in one day.

    One good thing about calm seas and no wind is that we can have pancakes for breakfast.  The bad thing is that having the engine running, and minimal breeze through the cabin contribute greatly to the heat problem, which is the most serious problem besetting us at this time.  Later this morning, we are planning to drop the main and set up the awning again, as the wind doesn’t look like it’s going to come up.

Have We Found the Doldrums?

08/01/02

    Yesterday was a little more comfortable, as it was overcast some of the day, and the wind swung back to northwest, so we found ourselves running again with a gentle breeze blowing into the companionway.  This pleasant run lasted most of the night.  It looks like we were once again in the trades and had only encountered a lull before.  When I got up for my 0800 watch, the wind had pretty much died again, and we were hobbling along at 2.5 knots.  When Eric got up, he decided to roll in the jib and start the engine, as it now appears we are really in the doldrums.  We are now at 9 degrees 33’ N 26 degrees 34’ W, 833 miles from our waypoint at Fernando de Noronha.  Once we get through the doldrums we should pick up the southeast trade winds, which should send us on a nice reach.  We have to be careful not to get too far north, as the equatorial current can make it impossible to work our way south as we approach the island.  We also have to be careful of the Peter and Paul rocks, which can be found in the middle of the ocean en route to Fernando.